


Grace Too Powerful to Name

by NyxEtoile, OlivesAwl



Series: Learn to Live with the Unimaginable [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hangover, Outer Space, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesAwl/pseuds/OlivesAwl
Summary: Valkyrie put her hands on her hips. "The last thing you did, before you charged into battle, after you made me responsible for the safety of our refugees, was kiss me.""Oh." Thor paused, thinking of how to phrase it. She deserved more than a glib answer. "I had wanted to for a long time and thought I might never again have the chance."She huffed out a breath. "Well, you could have done it sooner.""We were busy!"





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We liked this universe enough we ended up writing a few shorter companion stories for the other couples (there are two additional ones to this). And everything will post this week before Endgame. (Before we see it, anyway. I can't worry about y'all with early showings)

"See to the lifeboats."

Alarms were blaring, lights were flashing, people were screaming. The ship shook and somewhere something was burning. Probably many somethings. And Thor had apparently lost his damn mind. Valkyrie stared at him. "I'm coming to fight with you."

He shook his head and grabbed her arm. "Please. I need you to go with them. They'll need a leader."

The ship rocked again, and she crashed into him before righting herself. "How about you not die?"

"That's plan A, but just in case. Get to the lifeboats."

He absolutely did not believe that. "Thor. . ." she started, but what could she possibly say? 

Squeezing her arm, he leaned close to rest his head against hers. "Please," he said softly.

"All right," she replied, just as quiet. "I'll see you on the other side." Even though that other side might be Valhalla.

"I look forward to it," he told her. Then he dropped a fast kiss on her mouth and turned, running back towards the bridge.

That. . . she didn't have time to process now. She had an evacuation to handle.

Surviving a massacre really ought to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, but Valkyrie was on her second, or maybe third. In the end Thor was right about the evacuation, because their ship was blown to pieces before they could finish the full loading. She didn't have a count of how many made it off, but it was. . . not nearly enough.

Asgardians could survive in a vacuum for far longer than most beings, and once the attacking ship had left without showing interest in the escape pods, she took the one she was driving back to scan the wreckage for survivors. 

Her scans picked up one life sign. And—miracle of miracles—the signature of ship. She hoped they were answering the distress call and not scavengers. She didn't think she had any guns.

Maneuvering carefully through the wreckage, she got close enough to see a body - she could tell it was Thor from the clothes - hit the front of the ship. She winced in sympathy and tried to spot a path to get closer. Before she could, the people in the ship managed to pull him inside. At least he wasn't at risk of suffocating or imploding anymore.

She opened up the frequency connecting her to the other escape pods. "There's a ship here," she said. "Looks friendly. The King went aboard,"--they didn't need to know about him hitting the windshield--"So if you all could lock on to my signal and try to get over to where I am, that should make this go faster."

Her sensors told her they were responding, slowly but surely. She sent out a call to the other ship, but there was no response. Probably everyone was distracted by the six feet of debris they'd just pulled inside.

One of the pods got stuck behind a large piece of hull, and it's pilot, who was not at all a pilot, had panicked. Valkyrie had to go help them, and by the time she got back to her original rendezvous point, the ship was gone. 

For a moment, she just stared at the empty spot where it had been. The escape pods didn't have systems advanced enough to track anything, so she had no way of knowing where it might have gone.

"What should we do?" asked the woman who had come up to help her pilot.

Valkyrie swallowed hard and blew out a very long, slow breath in an attempt to buy time. "I suppose. . . we keep heading for Earth. That was the plan."

"These things have a weeks worth of emergency rations. At most."

She looked at the stars, and the enormous swath of wreckage beyond her view screen, and sighed. "Don't suppose those rations include any booze?"

"I don't think so, ma'am."

The Commodore, the Grandmaster's orgy ship that they's escaped Sakaar in, floated by. It had been docked on the top of the big ship, and clearly had been dislodged during the explosion. She wondered if it was still space worthy. It was their best hope anyway.

"Help me maneuver closer to that," she said. "It'll be better supplied."

Luck was on her side. By the time she got inside it—which did take a while—she found all its systems running. It had, of its own accord, recorded data about the ship that stopped and took Thor. Enough she could track the damn thing. It also was much, much faster than the pods.

And, hey, it was the Grandmaster's, so there absolutely was something to drink.

She programmed in the coordinates, left her lieutenants in charge, and found a bottle and a quiet place to sit with it.

Drowning a horrific day wasn't the best coping mechanism, but it was the only one Valkyrie had. If she could get drunk enough, she would have to see the dead bodies, or hear any of the screams.

When she woke up, she orbiting a deserted and devastated world, with no sign of the ship. She stat for a while, contemplating her hangover and her fate. She needed to find Thor. Because she owed him. Because she liked his company. And because she did not want to be the leader of the scant remnants of her people.

But for now, she _was_ responsible for them. She couldn't just chase this ship around the galaxy. So, for the moment, she moved on to what was next. Namely, finding somewhere to hock the luxury toy of a ship she was in and buy something uglier but larger, and lay in supplies for a long journey.

"Okay," she said aloud, cracking her neck and setting at the controls. "Where the fuck are we and how far away is civilization?"

The Asgardian Ark, Part II, was purchased from a shady salvage operation where she had to win a drinking contest _and_ flash her tits at someone to close the transaction. But, as someone who had once mined giant garbage piles for scrap for a living, she knew what she was looking for better than those guys did. She got a good deal.

It took her two days to stock up and get back to the pods. When she got there, she discovered half the people on board had turned to dust and vanished. 

"What the _fuck?_ "

People we shell shocked and grieving all over again. Val really didn't know where to start with this, other than go back to the salvage ops bar and stay there forever. These people were still counting on her, though. So she herded them on board and set a course for Earth. With no other way of finding Thor - or even knowing if he was alive or dust - it was the closest thing to a lead she had.

She tried to contain the bender she went on once the course was locked and there was nothing to do but be alone with her thoughts. At least she kept it mostly private. She did, at least, choose to share with her passengers. They could all be drunk and hungover together.

It had seemed silly, at the time, to program the mystery ship's frequency into the new ship and keep scanning for it. Wishfully thinking, anyway. Earth was pretty out there, and absolutely nobody went to visit. There was no chance that ship would be on a course anywhere near theirs.

And then one day, it was.

She stared at the screen a moment, almost unable to believe it. Then she hailed them.

A blue-skinned woman appeared on her viewscreen. She didn't look Kree, which was probably for the best. Valkyrie didn't need trouble. Without even a greeting, she opened with, "What is the atmosphere on your ship?"

Now she really wished she was less hungover. "I'm sorry?"

"The air. On your ship. Our scanners can't tell and I need oxygen."

That ship was much smaller than hers, but it had guns on it. The rust bucket did not. There hadn't been money for that. She really hoped this wasn't about to go sideways. "And I need our King, which you took."

The blue woman looked nonplussed, then turned around to talk to someone off screen. "Are you a king?"

A man came into the frame. He looked absolutely like death warmed over. "Lady, I will be whatever you damn want for some O2."

Valkyrie had her ship scan theirs. Their engine output was fluctuating, and at a level far lower than would be expected, and the hull was damaged. They weren't going to shoot her. In fact they were probably barely keeping the feed on. They were probably adrift, and if that guy was human like he looked, about to suffocate based on their internal atmosphere. There was no one else on the ship. Whatever had happened to Thor, he wouldn't want her to leave them like that.

"I don't know you, I'm not docking with you. I will send over an escape pod, you can get on it and come here. We do have oxygen/nitrogen to breath here. Same as on Earth."

"Oh, thank God," the guy said.

The woman nodded stiffly. "Acceptable."

Valkyrie returned the nod and let the feed drop out.

She did as she'd said, sending one of their pods over to dock with the ship. She went down to the loading bay to meet them when they returned.

The blue woman looked wary and somewhat displeased. The man looked like he was considering hugging her. And also in worse shape than she'd guessed from the video. "We don't have any healers," she said, hoping he wasn't about to keel over.

"Air and food would go a long way," he offered, finally sitting on the metal of the bay before his feet went out from under him. "Who are you people?"

"Asgardian. Who are you?"

"Tony Stark. Human. Uh, Terran?" That was directed at the blue woman, who gave him a little nod. "This is Nebula. She's not a talker."

Valkyrie knew that name, and she stared back at him in surprise. "I. . . there are maybe half a dozen people from Midgard I have heard of, and. . .you are one of them."

He looked back at her, squinting. "Wait. Do you know Thor? Is that the king you were talking about?"

"Yes! What happened to him? I saw him get on your ship."

He looked at Nebula, who shrugged, then back at Valkyrie. "No idea. I think the people we got this ship from—stole, borrowed, I don't think it matters because they're all dead—said something about him going to see a dwarf about an axe."

"He went to Nidavellir?"

"Sure. But that was a while ago. Before the. . . dust thing."

"That happened to you, too?"

"It happened to everyone, everywhere," Nebula said. "Thanos filled the Infinity Gauntlet and used it to kill half of all life."

Valkyrie blew out a breath, not knowing what to think or feel. "Oh."

Stark made a sympathetic noise and they all shared a moment of silence. Finally, he asked, "I don't suppose you could drop me on Earth?"

"Seeing as that's where we're going. . . sure."

He grinned widely at her, then flopped back. "Great. I'm just going to take a nap and hope this wasn't a delirium dream."

"If this was your dream, I wouldn't be in it," Nebula said.

"That's a good point," he said, sticking a finger in the air. "I am reassured."

"Come on," Valkyrie said. "I'll find you some quarters."

They trudged along after her and get settled. She brought them both rations from the galley and headed back to the bridge. Onward. To Earth.

Stark slept so long that Valkyrie had the computer regularly checking the he was still alive. He looked less like death when he finally emerged. "We're towing your ship," she told him.

"Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck and sat in the chair next to her. "I guess I've officially inherited it."

"Thor told me once that you were an engineer." 

"I am. Though even I haven't gotten to reliable space travel yet."

"None of us left are that kind of mechanical, and this ship is a hand-me-down." She shrugged. "If you were looking for something to keep yourself occupied." 

His brows went up and he glanced around. "Where would you like me to start?"

"Engine? Life support? The electrical system? Take your pick. It's a shitbox." She paused. "I'd really love cupholders.

"I love cupholders," he assured her. Then he stood again. "Which way to the engine?"

When she'd bought the ship, they'd told her the secondary engine hadn't worked in years. A week later, Stark had it running. She offered him some of her very precious alcohol supplies in thanks. 

"I'm not entirely sure what flavor I'm tasting," he admitted. "But it burns like a whiskey."

"It was cheap," she told him. "I didn't ask."

Seemingly unfazed by that, he lifted his glass. "Here's hoping ti doesn't kill me."

"Hasn't killed me yet. Though that may not be saying much." She swigged her drink. "You got stuff to live for?"

"Hopefully. Find out when we get to Earth, I suppose."

"Family?"

"Fiancee. Woman I've promised to marry," he clarified. "And a few good friends."

"Betrothed is the word we'd use." She refilled his glass, and hers. "I had people. Lost them. Lived alone a long time. Finally found more people. Now they're all dead, too. Well, Thor might still be alive."

"Yeah. That sounds. . . familiar. Feels like eventually you don't have the energy to rebuild."

This was a man who understood. "But then you have all these people depending on you. . "

"Right. And if you don't get up and do it, who will? And if they fuck up, is it their fault or yours?"

"I was kind of dragged out of my hiding," she said. "So some of this is Thor's fault."

"Throw an inspiring speech at you?"

"Told me he ran towards his problems and not away from them. Because that's what heroes do." She said the last line in a fake deep voice.

Stark chuckled. "Yeah. That. . . that sounds like him." 

"if he's alive—and that's a big if—I may kill him when I find him." She put the cap on the bottle and closed it, because she had to ration it. It was going to be long journey. "He just got on that damn ship and left me with a bunch of life pods."

"When the hero bug gets you it's easy to forget everyone else." He held up his hands. "Not that I'm defending him."

"No, but that does sound like the voice of experience."

"If my betrothed is alive, she will happily tell you stories."

Valkyrie chuckled. "She's the woman you sent your message to? We picked up the transmission," she added.

He nodded. "Pepper. Not my first 'sorry I'm dying' message to her. Though I _really_ thought it was going to be the last."

"Will she forgive you when we turn up?"

"I hope so. She has every other time."

She considered that. "What's the longest she's thought you were dead before?"

"I was stuck in a cave for a couple months once but that was technically before we were dating."

"I think this will clock in at about the same."

"Maybe she'll count the whole 'destruction of half the universe' as extenuating circumstances."

"Love does funny things to people."

He glanced over at her. "You going to forgive him after you kill him?"

"I think you are assuming more of our relationship than there is," she said immediately. Probably _too_ immediately, based on the head tilt she got in response. She opened up the bottle again. "I don't do things like feelings. I'm a professional bitter drunk."

"As a former professional drunk who caught feelings, you have my deepest sympathies."

"It's easier without them," she said.

"Easier, yeah. Lot lonelier, though."

Lonely was something Valkyrie knew plenty about.

Their ship was slow, even with his modifications, and took several months to get to Midgard. Stark, and eventually also Nebula, spent most of it trying to get the long range comms working, without a lot of luck. Apparently, their arrival would be a surprise.

Several weeks still out, when they were still in the middle of nowhere, she ran out of alcohol. That proved and exceedingly unpleasant experience.

"Withdrawl?" Stark asked, putting a damp cloth on her head when he found her napping on the bridge.

"That, or I'm dying." She squinted up. "Thanks."

He patted her arm companionably. "Hydration and pain killers."

"If we had any painkillers, I would definitely take them."

"Ah. Sorry, I can't help you there."

She closed her eyes again. "The pain isn't even the worst," she muttered.

"Vomiting? Nightmares? Fuzzy tongue?"

She nodded, then added, "My nightmares'll put hair on your chest."

"I have plenty of my own." He sat in the co pilot's seat. "I'm told it's our brain's way of coping with trauma."

Well, she certainly had that in spades. "Does it get better eventually?"

"Yeah. It helps to talk to someone about it. Verbal processing is more efficient."

"Did you?"

"I did, at several people's insistence. It was uncomfortable and I hated it, but I did it."

"Asgardians don't really do that sort of thing. Talking about your feelings is a weakness." 

He nodded. "You do seem more the drink and punch things types."

"And look at where it got us? Blown up world, our people down to a handful of refugees on this rust bucket."

"My therapist would say that's a good time to start over."

"Sounds like that's happening whether I like it or not."

Clearly unable to argue that, he just nodded. "If she's still alive, I'll put you in touch with my therapist when we get to Earth."

She cracked an eye open. "Thanks, Stark."

He patted her shoulder again. "Go get some rest, I'll watch the window."

They couldn't contact Midgard until they were in orbit, by which time Valkyrie felt a whole lot less like death. The last few days of the trip, Stark didn't sleep.

"Been doing good not thinking about it. What if she's gone. But now we're almost there."

They watched the planet grow larger in their view screen. Nebula lurked behind them, but she wasn't chatty. "Last woman I loved died in my arms," Valkyrie told him.

Stark looked over at her. "That the beginning of the bitter drinking?"

"Yeah." She paused. "My entire unit did also die in a pointless battle."

Nodding slowly, he glanced back at the planet. "I've been there."

"This goes sideways. . . you want me to promise to keep you from drinking yourself into a coma?"

"Not sure. Coma might be preferable."

"I've been there, too."

Behind them, Nebula made an exasperated noise and came forward to the comms panel. "How about we call down and ask before you to start with the suicide pacts." She tapped some buttons. "Someone is scanning on the frequency of the other ship." More tapping.

A voice came on a moment later, a voice came on. "Who the hell is this?"

Valkyrie looked at Stark, who shrugged, clearly not recognizing the voice either. "We're Asgardian refugees, and one human." She'd skip explaining Nebula for the moment. "Who is this?"

"Name's Rocket. What the fuck are you doing with my ship?"

"I found it drifting in space," Valkyrie replied. "Running out of air."

"This is Nebula," she piped up. "Mr. Stark and I were the only survivors of the battle with Thanos."

There was a moment of silence. "You guys home in on my signal. We got plenty of room to land."

She could hear Stark chuckle. "He's at the Avengers compound." He hesitated a moment, then apparently decided he'd rather be prepared. "Rocket. Who survived?"

"Your girl is just fine."

He exhaled and bent his head and you could see his shoulders relax in relief. "Thank you. Who else?"

"Is here? Bunch of 'em." Rocket listed them off while Valkyrie piloted the ship into the atmosphere. Thor had apparently made it through after all. That made her happier than she wanted to admit.

"Looks like I get to kick his ass after all."

"So we're both having a good day," Stark said with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

The last thing in all the universe Thor expected was for a bunch of Asgardians to get off the ship that landed on the lawn. It was a heartbreakingly small number, but he'd been sure none of them had survived.

And Valkyrie was among them.

"A rescue ship came and you got on and left! You told me to get people into escape pods, and I did, and then you just leave?" She had her full armor on, and people moved out of her way as she marched on him.

He was so happy to see her, he honestly didn't care if she punched him "Valkyrie! You're alive. I can't believe you made it here."

"No thanks to you!" she replied. She reached him, stopping and meeting his eyes a moment before throwing her arms around him.

"You can be mad at me all you want," he told her, "I'm just happy you're here." He was hugging her so hard her feet had left the ground. That would probably bug her, but he's been momentarily distracted by how good she smelled.

"I did the best I could," she said when he put her down. "It wasn't much, but. . ." She turned and looked back at them. "I got them here."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

"Any time, your majesty." Her smile was warm and she reached to squeeze his hand. There was something different about her, he thought, though he couldn't tell what. Perhaps it was just how long it had been. "You should go talk to them."

He nodded, and he held onto her hand. "Come with me?"

Greeting the last remnants of his people was emotional, for all of them. They were finally safe, and he hadn't lost everything after all. There was a lot of hugging. He didn't let Valkyrie go unless he had to, and she let him. That seemed like something best examined later, when they had time.

For now, there was a lot to do, turning an unused office building on the compound into temporary housing. They worked all night, and by the time all the Asgardians were settled, dawn was starting to lighten the sky.

Someone—probably Pepper—and offered Valkyrie a room in the house. Which saved him from having to decide if it would be presumptuous to ask her if she wanted to come to his, or rude to not ask and leave her to sleep on the floor.

"It seems like you and Stark managed to bond," he commented as he walked her to her room.

"We were stuck on a small ship for several months." He looked up at him. "We have more in common than you'd think."

"It's not surprising. You're both warriors who've seen much death. It's only note worthy because neither of you are prone to discussing such experiences."

"We ran out of alcohol ¾ of the way here. It was unpleasant, and he was very helpful in keeping me from, you know, dying."

"Ah." He nodded. "That Stark is an expert at."

They got to the long hallway where the bedrooms were, and she sighed tiredly. "Which one of these is mine?"

"This," he said, pointing to the door. I'm on your right, if you need anything."

She nodded, and then after a moment looked up at him. "I'm really glad you're not dead."

He smiled and touched her cheek. "Likewise."

She closed her eyes, and turned her face a little into his hand. For a moment she just breathed, then she said, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well," he said. She nodded, and turned and went into her room. Likewise, he turned and went into his.

The sun was starting to come up, though it had been an emotionally if not physically exhausting day, so he could probably-

There was knocking on his door.

Sighing, he say up in bed. "Yes?"

The door opened, and Valkyrie came in. "Why did you kiss me?"

He blinked. "What?"

She put her hands on her hips. "The last thing you did, before you charged into battle, after you made me responsible for the safety of our refugees, was kiss me."

"Oh." He paused, thinking of how to phrase it. She deserved more than a glib answer. "I had wanted to for a long time and thought I might never again have the chance."

She huffed out a breath. "Well, you could have done it sooner."

"We were busy!"

"We were stuck on a ship together!"

"And we were trying to feed our people and figure out where we were going. There was a lot going on and didn't want to add something to complicate it."

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped as she deflated. "You know all of that was about a hundred times harder alone."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I can't see the future. I didn't know how poorly it would go."

"I know," she said. "I'm the one who should apologize. You were probably trying to sleep. Is there a liquor cabinet around here somewhere?"

"I. . . have no idea. The Midgardian liquor may not be strong enough for you."

"Well, I'll give it a try before I get into the cleaning supplies." He thought she was joking, but he couldn't entirely tell.

"Do you need it to sleep?" he asked gently.

She watched him a moment. "It helps. Used to, anyway." She looked down at her armor. "Maybe this stirs things, too."

"Would you like me to find you other clothes?"

"You were going to bed," she said. "I do have some things in the ship, I didn't wear this every day for months. And I sleep naked anyway."

He knew she hadn't said that to be provocative, but it was all he could think about suddenly just the same.

Clearing his throat in an effort to clear his head, he said, "Would you . . . like to keep kissing?"

She looked up at him, and there was long, heavy pause. "I should tell you that wasn't an invitation. But that would be a hell of a lie."

He held up his hands. "I didn't necessarily mean now. We both need sleep and you've had a long journey-"

"It was very long! And crowded and stressful, and you _left_ and I had no damn idea if you were even alive or not until today and I can't sleep and I need. . . something." She rubbed her eyes and swallowed. "I don't even know what I'm asking for."

He really hated seeing her like this. He was the one who had dragged her into this mess. She might not have been living a healthy life, but it was safe and probably less painful. "Do you want a hug?"

She made a face that indicated the answer was yes, but she didn't want to say it. Perhaps it seemed more stoic to her to ask for alcohol than something as simple as touch. He got up and walked over to her anyway, and she nearly crashed into him when he got close enough. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. He was very careful not to make it any more than a hug. Much as he might want her in bed, all he wanted right now was to bring her a little comfort he hand't been able to give before.

Her arms tightened, and he could feel her shudder. After a moment he heard her say, not much more than a whisper, "I really thought I was going to be alone again."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was unconscious when they took me aboard. I didn't leave you intentionally."

"I was hoping it would be something like that." She said that into his shirt, and he could feel her hands clutching at it. "Didn't want to have to hate you."

He rubbed her back. "I would never have left you alone, had I the choice." It wasn't the easiest to hug someone wearing armor, thin though it was. But he couldn't exactly suggest she take it off.

She leaned back and looked up at him, and said, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Everyday." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Don't worry," she said, reaching up to fuss with his hair. "I'm just way too stubborn to die."

He smiled. "I consider that a plus."

She was still watching him, and he knew he probably ought to let her go by this point. Before it got awkward. But he didn't want to. And then there turned out to still be some mercy in the universe, because she leaned up and kissed him.

Sighing in relief as much as anything else, he kissed her back, tugging her close. She had her hand curled around the back of his neck, standing up on her toes and trying to hold them as close together as she could. It was the kind of kiss that left absolutely no doubt as to its intent.

Bending his knees a little, he lifted her up off the floor, then took a step back and sat on the bed with her in his lap. She gave a little laugh and said, "Gods, let me get the armor off," as she stood back up. She was so efficient at it, it didn't seem like he should help. Underneath, she had a tunic and leggings that were so thin and light they wouldn't _quite_ qualify as clothing.

He reached out and cupped her hip, tugging her close again for another kiss. She straddled his lap, and this time it was so much better now that he could feel her skin. He'd thought about this far more than wanted to admit. He edged his fingers under the edge of the tunic, stroking the bare skin he found. Her hands were under his shirt, too, and she asked, "Did you want to sleep?"

"I imagine we'll get to the sleeping part eventually," he rumbled. She pulled his shirt up and she wasn't at all gentle about it--something he found pretty hot. She wasn't wasting any time.

He gave her shirt the same treatment, and took a moment to take her in before leaning forward and drawing one nipple into his mouth. She made a sound that was half gasp, half moan. The sort of sound you could feel. Her nails dug into his shoulders. He bit gently, making her buck, then moved to give the other breast the same treatment. She rocked on him and he groaned against her skin, flattening his palm over her lower back, holding her against him.

She pushed his shoulders a little and said, "Let me up, let me up." Surprised, he froze and let her climb off his lap. He had about a heartbeat to disappointed before he realized she just wanted to take her leggings off, which involved a delightful little dance.

Grinning, he watched her a moment, enjoying the way she moved. Then he came to his senses and stood to shed the rest of his clothing as well. She swayed into him when she kissed him again, their bodies pressing together skin on skin. Their hands wandered freely, touching and stroking. They moved together and tumbled back onto the bed.

Tugging her on top of him, he let his hands roam down her back to cup her rear, then slid lower, stroking his fingers along the seam of her sex. It caused her to make a very sexy noise, so he repeated the gesture. She was braced on her arms and he could see her elbows give as he touched her. She was so wet he could slide his fingers inside her if he wanted to. 

Her breathing picked up, and she rested her forehead against his. "I want you so much."

He kissed her. "I want you, too," he whispered. He swirled his fingers around her clit, just to wind her up a bit more, then shifted to cup her hips in his hands, tugging her into position. She lifted a little, and then he was sinking into her slick, wet heat. It felt blindingly good and they were both still for a moment. She gave him a deep kiss before straightening, stretching her body out and providing a hell of a view. She arched her back and rolled her hips, shifting enough to take him deeper.

The sound that came from him was almost a growl, which made her grin. For a few strokes she teased him, letting him enjoy the show. Then she tipped her head back, eyes closing to focus on her movement. He took the opportunity to slide a hand around and touch her again, stroking her clit with two callused fingers. Her rhythm faltered a moment, and then she looked down at him and it reminded him of the way she'd looked at him when they fought together, taking down a spaceship with a sword. She squeezed tight around him and rocked harder and faster. It was very nearly more than he could take. But then she stilled and cried out and he could feel her shatter.

He bucked up to her, riding through the spasms of pleasure surrounding him. She was just starting to come down when he buried himself deep and joined her.

She melted onto him, and made a happy noise. They drifted, and he could feel her breath against his neck. He rubbed her back, hand moving in big circles, feeling utterly content for the first time he could remember.

Eventually he moved them enough to get some blankets around them, and told FRIDAY to close the shades. As they sunk towards sleep, she whispered, "This is what I needed."

"I think we both needed that," he agreed, kissing her temple. "Welcome to Midgard."


	3. Chapter 3

Valkyrie had always been a fan of recreational sex, and so had had plenty over the years. But that was all it ever was. So it had been years—many, many years—since she'd woken up in a lover's bed. 

It was really, really nice, and she had no inclination to leave whatsoever.

Next to her, Thor stirred and flung an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Morning," she said. "Afternoon. Something like that."

"Mmm," he rumbled. "You smell good."

"I'm dubious about that claim, but I'll take it." He kissed the back of her neck, and she hummed in approval.

"There is a bathroom attached. If you'd like to shower." He then snuggled her closer, suggesting he didn't mean _now_.

"We could share it," she suggested. His hands were wandering. "Later."

"You have excellent ideas and are a brilliant strategist."

It was slow, lazy morning sex, followed by a joint shower that went on so long that he lifted and held her up against the tile wall. There was something amazing about having that much hot water to waste, and a couple of orgasms didn't hurt.

They had a conversation while drying off about being hungry and getting food, but somehow ended up back in bed again. They couldn't get enough of each other. She made a comment that she wasn't sure she'd be able to come again, and the next thing she knew his mouth was on her and she was screaming and clutching at the sheets. It was so intense she ripped holes in them. 

It seemed the both had things to work out, and burn off. But mostly, it was so nice to do something that felt _good_.

The sun was dipping low when he ventured out of the room and returned with a pile of food for them to share. "Fortunately, Stark was busy elsewhere, so the catcalling and cheers were minimal."

She helped herself to some noodles. "I admit I know very little about Midgard. Is your friend having sex a cause for cheering?"

He lifted a shoulder. "Congratulations are sometimes considered in order."

"Well," she said with a grin, "At this point I think you genuinely do deserve some applause."

"If you wish to applaud me I will certainly not discourage you."

The noodles were good, so she investigated the other food. "I can probably think of better ways to reward you if I wanted. Are those vegetables?" She pointed.

"Yes." He handed the plate over. "They're cooked and tossed in a marinade."

"You know how long it's been since I had vegetables that weren't freeze dried? I can't even remember." She picked one up and popped it into her mouth. It was so good she might have actually moaned.

When she opened her eyes - she hadn't realized she'd closed them - she found him watching her intently. "We have fruit, too," he told her.

She looked down at the tray. "Where?"

He nudged a bowl of cut up pieces towards her. She picked up a piece and found it even better than the vegetable. Fresh produce was something you just could not synthesize. It dripped juice on her chin and fingers. "This is so good."

"It's quite enjoyable watching it, too," he assured her.

He was staring at her like she was desert, so she held out a piece of fruit to him. Grinning a little, he leaned forward and bit it out of her hand. They ate the rest of the fruit like that, gazes locked, until she couldn't take it anymore. It was good that they'd decided to have a little picnic, because she could just shove the tray out of the way and crawl into his lap.

This might kill them, but it would be a worthy death.

They ended up getting sweaty and sticky enough to shower again, before collapsing into bed. "Tomorrow, we should try to leave the room," he suggested, playing with her hair.

"We should. Check on our people and all."

"I ran into Sharon while getting food, they're looking after them."

"Oh, good." She put her hand on his chest and propped her chin on it so she could look at him. "I think we needed this." 

"I agree. Very much. I was not complaining."

"When you're ready, will you tell me what happened?" she asked quietly.

He swallowed hard, but he nodded. "If you wish."

"Doesn't have to be now. I was just wondering about Nidavellir and your new eye and. . . well, everything."

"The eye was a gift from Rocket. Nidavellir is a much longer story."

"It's almost too bad," she said, snuggling back against his shoulder. "That eye patch really did it for me."

A laugh rumbled through him. "I can put it on for special occasions."

"I'll reward you by putting on my armor."

"Sounds like some fun roleplay."

That they managed to joke about that without riling themselves was a good sign they'd finally hit the end of their energy. Sleep would do them good.

When she woke in the morning, the sun was up. Thor was still asleep, and her stirring only cause him to make a grumpy noise and pull the blanket over her head. But she was hungry, so she got up and cobbled together something to wear out of his clothes. Way too big, but it would do for her to wander out in search of the kitchen.

One of the Midgardian women, a pretty blonde with lean muscle, was sitting at the island counter, eating. She smiled and waved. "There's a little coffee left, if you want it. Thor's a big fan, you might like it."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm Valkyrie. Is there food, too?"

"Sharon. And yes, there's fruit and eggs in the fridge or cereal in the cabinet."

She got her coffee and more fruit—it was really, really good. "You're not one of the people Thor told me about."

"No, I don't think we ever really met. I'm. . . well I'm married to Steve. We met when he was doing non-Avenger work with SHIELD." She gave a crooked smile. "It's a long story."

"I helped Thor fight Hela," Valkyrie said. "And then ended up in charge of the lifeboats that managed to evacuate from the Asgardian ship. We picked up Stark and Nebula floating in space."

"Tony told us part of that. He was very lucky you came across him."

"We only found them because I was scanning looking for Thor."

She nodded. "Still. We're glad you could make it here. I've been talking to some of the Asgardians, we're working on finding land for them to settle on permanently."

"Thank you," she said. "We really should have. . . seen to that."

"You seemed busy," Sharon replied with a grin.

She felt her face heat, which was ridiculous. "Yes, well, we. . ." She didn't even know how to articulate it. They hadn't been together before, and she wasn't entirely sure what they were now. But they had needed each other. It was as simple and complicated as that.

"A lot of us decompress with sex," Sharon told her. "No judgement here."

"Decompress. That's a good word." One with no strings, if they didn't want there to be. 

"I can show you around later. If Thor is sleeping in."

That made her smile. "That sounds nice."

Valkyrie got a tour of the facilities, checked in with the other Asgardians, and Sharon gave her a proper introduction to the rest of the denizens of the house, whom she'd only vaguely met on arrival. Pepper, Stark's fiancee, gave her a very genuine and grateful hug. 

There was crying, and dealing with crying women was not really something that was in Valkyrie's repertoire. Pepper fanned her face and said, "I'm sorry, it's just the hormones."

Babies weren't in Valkyrie's repertoire either, but she was inordinately happy for her friend, obnoxious though he sometimes was, that he'd feared he was coming home to no one, and instead came home to a family.

They were all busy that summer, building houses for their people on a plot of land in the compound. Valkyrie deeply enjoyed having female friends again. She helped plant a garden. The Avengers went back to work, and she was asked to join. She said yes, mostly because she wanted a reason to wear her armor, and she and Thor found fighting together fantastic foreplay.

Sometimes, though, fighting stirred demons. 

Thor had this immensely powerful axe. It could summon the bifrost and made Moljnir look like a child's toy. He didn't take it into the field with them. She asked about it once or twice, and got flip answer. "I'm not the god of axes any more than hammers," or "No need to bring artillery to a fistfight." She could tell there was more to it, but their relationship wasn't the sort where she would push. It lived on the surface. She liked to think of it as something protective, covering the surface and holding them together while they healed.

Sometimes, after they'd been on some sort of mission that involved violence, in the dark of night, they'd lock eyes while he was inside her and that thin layer would rip. They'd see each other right down to the bone.

It was one of those nights. They been hunting an out of control drug cartel at the behest of the Brazilian government, and something about fighting in tropical jungle had rattled the team very badly. Valkyrie had had to fly them home because Rhodey's hands were shaking. Natasha threw up off the back ramp before takeoff, and Steve and Thor had spent the entire flight silent with thousand yard stares.

They said nothing when they got home, because she couldn't figure out how to start asking. He ripped a piece of her armor getting it off, and the sex was so rough they cracked their headboard. He'd turned her around before pushing her onto the bed, so there wasn't any eye contact. Maybe it was one of those nights and he was afraid of what she'd see. 

She assumed they'd fall asleep as they collapsed, his head resting on her back, and was just drifting off when he spoke. "I wanted to watch him die."

It was such a strange and sort of alarming thing to say that she had to push up and crane her neck to try and see him. "Who?"

"Thanos. Could have thrown the axe at his head. But I hit him in the chest. I wanted him to know it was me. Look him in the eye and _watch_." 

There was such an inordinate amount of rage and grief and guilt in his voice, in that statement, that she had to turn over fully to look at him. Nobody talked about the Wakanda battle, so she had no idea what specifically happened. But she'd peeled details about the fight on the Ark out of Bruce. She knew about Heimdall and Loki and all the lives they'd fought so hard to save. "I would have, too," she said.

He shook his head. "If I hadn't - If I'd just cut his Hel be-damned head off, then this wouldn't have happened. No snap. No ash. Nothing."

What a horrifying, unbearable thing to have to carry on your soul. And what in any of the realms could she possibly say? 

Nothing of use, nothing that wasn't useless platitudes, but she shifted down so she could get her arms around him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

His arms came around her tightly, crushing her to him. "Sometimes, I can't even look at that damn axe."

She rubbed his back, feeling the tension and tremble in him, like he thought he could still keep it all contained. "I'll dig a hole down to the granite and bury it for you if you want."

The earned her a little bark of laughter with little humor in it. "I know you would," he said softly.

"I know what it's like to hurt so much you can't stand to look at your own reflection in the mirror."

He rubbed her back a little. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "It's not going to be anywhere near your-"

"It's not a competition," he chided gently. "I want to hear."

Valkyrie had told him the edges of the story. Odin had sent them to stop Hela. She'd killed every last one. Valkyrie had taken their name as hers, because she was the last and it felt a fitting homage. The version of her that existed before was long dead, anyway.

She told Thor the details now. The screaming and falling and bleeding. The woman she'd loved who took a sword for her. Collecting and burning all the bodies, all on her own, to make sure they would get to Valhalla, because no one else came to do it. She could see he finally understood how _much_ it had meant that she'd come back to Asgard with him.

When she was done, he held her, like she had held him, rubbing her back gently. "I'm sorry."

There wasn't anything to say, but somehow they kept talking. He told her about watching Thanos kill his brother and how part of him still waited for him to reappear like all of his other deaths. About almost dying lighting the forge at Nidevalir and not entirely caring if he did. She told him about Sakaar and the things she'd done to survive. 

They stayed up talking till the sun started to lighten the sky. When they finally seemed to run out of tragedies to confess Thor sighed deeply and pressed a kiss into her hair. "I feel better, oddly enough."

"A burden shared is easier to carry." She lifted her head to catch his mouth, and there was such an immense amount of tenderness in that kiss. Even the way he held her was tender and gentle. There was definitely a difference in everything about them. She wondered if it would stay or if it was just a product of the night they had had.

The kiss picked up heat, and because they were naked and tangled up already then didn't even have to move much for her to wrap her leg over his hip and him to sink into her. It was about as polar opposite of the sex they'd had at the beginning of the evening as you could get. Quiet, slow, their eyes open and inches apart. They watched each other break.

He cupped her face in his hand and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. She loved his hands. She loved every inch of him, really. At some point she really ought to figure out how to tell him that. Not now. This was enough for now.


	4. Chapter 4

He put Stormbreaker under the bed. It was an odd place for weapon storage, granted, but it was safe and out of his line of sight. If they fought an enemy that needed it, he could get it. After all, it had been the thing that had helped him and Carol actually kill Thanos in the end. It wasn't all bad.

Asgardian festivals were tied to the seasons. Someone marked where they fell on Midgard, and set up the bonfires. Vetrnaetr, which kicked off winter, was probably the biggest and rowdiest one, sprawling over three days. In honor of their hosts, they incorporated some things from a local holiday occurring at the same time--the primary feature of which was costumes and endless bags of candy.

The entire team was invited, and everyone came—even Pepper, who was extremely pregnant, and Natasha, who seemed to be having a very hard time with her grief.

Snow began falling after sunset, just as the dancing was picking up. Valkyrie had procured herself a big wool cloak and put her hair up in the most elaborate concoction he'd ever seen. It was very. . . Asgardian.

It was the closest Thor had felt in years to the home he'd never see again.

"Have I told you you look lovely?" he asked her towards the end of the night, when they were huddled together and watching the last stragglers dancing in the snow.

She put her head on his shoulder. "Thank you. I was quite proud of myself."

"Did you do your hair yourself?"

"Not at all. A couple of the women cornered me and insisted for the festival I really ought to look. . . the part." She gestured vaguely in a way that seemed to involve him. 

He arched a brow, wondering how far he should pursue that. "Are they. . . making assumptions?"

She looked amused. "Ah. . . we have not slept apart since I landed on the lawn outside. And we probably missed the boat on convincing people we just have innocent bunk beds."

That was an excellent point. "We're not subtle, are we?"

"Considering we've broken our bed twice? No. No we are not." The third bed, acquired recently, was metal. And bolted to the wall. "We're all adults. Sex is healthy."

He grinned at the reminder of those particular memories. "Would you like to build our own place? In the village?"

She leaned forward a little, so she could get a better look at him. "You want to move out here?"

"I had been thinking about. It feels a bit odd to be separated from them. But I also enjoy being close to my friends in the main house. I thought I'd get your opinion. Talk about it."

"There are going to be babies here soon," she said. Two of them. Sharon and Steve were going to have one next spring. "Which are loud a lot."

"They are," he agreed. "And underfoot, once they start moving."

She was watching him, and he couldn't read her at all. Which was unnerving. "And this house would be ours? Not just yours that I happen to stay in?"

"Yes. Ours. We do, as you say, spend every night together."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "We gonna sort ourselves out, Odinsson, or are we just going to go on as we are in a new location?"

Thor had to clear his throat a couple times before answering. "Sort ourselves out?"

Valkyrie sighed, and he could see her considering her words. "You know that night, the first on the ship, after Ragnarok, I almost knocked on your door."

"In the hopes of doing what we've been doing?"

"Yeah. But more like an adrenaline burn-off. Confirmation of survival. I love a good post-battle fuck."

He was quite familiar with that, so he nodded. "Why didn't you?"

She smoothed her hands over the folds of her cloak. "Because I liked you."

His brow furrowed. "I'm confused."

"I didn't want to have cheap, recreational sex. I don't know that I even understood what I was feeling. I just felt this pull towards you. That had nothing to do with sex. Gut instinct told me drunk fucking might blow that all to hell."

"Ah." He reached out and stroked her hand. "It might have," he admitted. "But I wish I'd known at the time."

She turned her hand and tangled their fingers. "You'd have kissed me sooner?"

"Absolutely. Many times."

She blew out a breath in a little puff of steam, leaning back a little to look up at the falling snow. "I spent three months in space thinking about the what-ifs. And then I get here and you're alive and we just fell into bed. Fill a need, scratch an itch. Hasn't been like that for a while now, but we have never said a single word about it. It just. . .is." 

"What needs to be said?"

That got her to turn and look at him. She stared so long he felt the urge to squirm. He couldn't see much beyond her poker face, but he knew she retreated the furthest when she was upset. Then she seemed to shake herself. "Nothing." She took her hand back and brushed at the snow settling on her cloak. "Sorry, it's. . . getting late late and kind of cold. I'm ready to go back home if you are."

Clearly, that had not been the right answer. He wanted to press, but not with an audience, so he nodded and stood, offering her hand to help her up. 

She laced their fingers together as they walked, huddling close against the wind that was picking up, as they hiked back to the big house. She didn't seem upset, at least.

Once back in their room - and he did think of it as theirs, not his - he helped her hang her cloak and sat to carefully unplait her hair.

As he worked, he could see her shoulders relax. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure," he told her honestly. He loved their small moments of familiar domesticity.

"It would be nice to have our own place," she said after a moment.

"I think so." He kissed the back of her neck. "Privacy would be novel."

She leaned back against him. "I want a bathtub," she told him.

"A big one," he promised. "With jets."

"That I look forward to." She turned enough to kiss his mouth, and then stood up to take the rest of her clothes off.

He watched a moment, because this was absolutely his favorite time of day. She really was utterly perfect. Leaning forward, he kissed her mouth, mumbling, "I love you," against her lips.

There was a sharp inhale, and her hands tightened on his arms, but it took her a moment to break the kiss. Then she stared at him. No poker face this time. Just the kind of smile she kept only for him. "That's something worth being said."

Feeling a little stupid, he smiled anyway. "I probably should have started with that, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah you should have." She laughed, and then she held his face in her hands and kissed him. "I love you. So much."

Tugging her into his lap, he dropped kisses all over her face, making her laugh again. "We'll build a beautiful house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. We're doing an Endgame story in this universe that will start posting soonish.


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